Privilege, Paying Attention and Other Reflections From the Van

My partner and I have been living out of our van for 10 days now.

It feels like we’ve been out here at least a month. The hours go by fast but the days are somehow slow.

One gift of adventure is it demands our presence, and each minute spent paying attention is a minute more to cherish and remember.

I think life passes us by so quickly because we aren’t paying attention. Our culture prefers us this way: anesthetized and working away without questioning - without questioning whether what we are doing is fulfilling us, and without questioning the systemic violence and destruction of life we are perpetuating.

Living in this kind of autonomous state is maintained mostly by not stopping, and by having a way to stay numb to the pain when we do. The most culturally approved way this shows up is overworking, overeating and booze. There are others of course. I know how autopilot looks for me. You will know how it looks for you.

We all have our own flavour of apathy.

In light of COVID-19, the past few months I have been paying more attention. I have been following the news when usually I don’t. I have been concerned with what is going on “out there” because it has been impacting my basic freedoms. These are not usually things I need to worry about.

The past few months have presenced me to some of the freedoms I take for granted. I have become a more active and engaged citizen as a result. I have been paying attention. I have been using my voice. 

In light of the recent murder of George Floyd, and the much-needed global conversation on racism it has sparked, I have intentionally been silent for the past week, both on my social media pages and on here. I have been reflecting on my own privilege and the injustices that so clearly still exist, and learning from the black and indigenous leaders I follow on social media.

I have also been spending more time offline, allowing nature to be my teacher.

The thing that keeps coming up for me is that I need to be even more willing to pay attention, to use my voice and to risk my heart.

As a white, attractive, intelligent, able-bodied, straight woman who was raised in a Christian community, I have had privilege bestowed upon me from nearly every angle my entire life.

In its simplest form, I have the privilege of feeling and being safe. I have had the privilege of knowing that our education system will groom me for success, our workforce will employ me, our health care system will tend to me if I get sick, and our justice system will do right by me, and my family.

I have had the privilege of being protected by our culture from the rough edges of life. I still do.

I have always known this on some level, although I have mostly not thought of it as a privilege. It has simply been my experience of life. To a large degree I have felt entitled to it. To be fair, I have always felt that everyone was entitled to it, but I have done little to acknowledge (or for that matter, work towards changing) the fact that many do not have the basic levels of safety and security I take for granted.

Recent events have reminded me just how privileged I am.

Not only do I not have to worry about my physical safety and security, I also have the privilege of emotional safety.

I have the privilege of being emotionally sensitive. I have the privilege of avoiding or checking out of difficult conversations. I can easily close my ears, my eyes and my heart to the injustices suffered by my fellow humans who are less-privileged, not to mention the injustices suffered by other species and the earth. In fact, it is culturally encouraged that I do so.

I have the privilege of not having to pay attention.

I have the privilege of making myself busy, over-indulging and numbing out.

I have the privilege of not being present to life, and all it beholds.

That I have often exercised this privilege is a hard pill to swallow.

When we who are privileged choose to indulge in the emotional comfort of closing our hearts and going into overdrive with our work, we are literally perpetuating the systems of injustice that are killing less-privileged humans, other species and the earth. No wonder we need so many flashy distractions and substances to numb out our heartbreak.

I’ve been there. I still am to a certain degree.

I’m not standing on a pedestal here. I have further to go in transforming my own inner world before I can say that I am truly in integrity with the kind of world I wish to see (one that serves all life equally).

What I am, is humbled and willing.

My heart is open and I am paying attention.

I have the privilege of apathy. I do not have to care. I do not have to risk anything. 

And that is a privilege I am relinquishing.

From here on out, I commit to prioritizing truth and justice over my own emotional comfort.

Not just in theory, but in practice.

For me, right now, that means paying attention, keeping my heart open even when the heartbreak is strong, risking using my voice even when I might get it wrong, and taking on without apology the work my soul came here to do.

Are you paying attention?

How does your privilege show up for you?

What are you willing to risk in service of the world you wish would be?

Its time to stop wishing.

Xo,

Danielle